Changing Luck
by Nashi Hane
Summary: second in 'Luck' triology - picks up where Bad Luck left off, so read that first
1. Those are not nice words

Still Hiro's POV… picking up where Bad Luck left off, so read that first or some of the stuff in here will be confusing to you. Sorry to all you die-hard sex fiends this doesn't get nasty, I wanna develop a bit more…all music and songs will be credited at the end, Gravitation and all characters, phrases and ideas related to it are not mine! I just like to mess with them, and my messing is not in any way meant to be malicious so please don't sue…you'll get an Okita Soushi figurine and a penguin picture I drew myself.

The wood is solid under my hand and I don't think I knocked hard enough for him to hear. I can't hear anything from the other side, and I know he's in there, so I press my ear to the door to try and get a better idea of what's going on inside.

He's listening to some song, but the words are muffled and I can only hear the bass thumping and bits and pieces of the vocalist. I think it's in English, but it has a good feel to it. Scratch that…I understand those words.

"Cause I'm a loser…

I'm a loser yeah…" There's a small interlude before the vocalist starts again.

This is getting old…" Those are not happy words. And now the melody just changed to something a little harder, then back to the softer rock… if not for the few words I managed to understand, I think I may like this group. I shake myself and push the door open, there's no way he could hear me knocking over that, and I need to speak with him.

He doesn't seem to notice me even as the words 'No getting closer' start up in the otherwise empty air, but that's as far as it gets, and the multi-disc player is shut off by remote. K is lying on his bed, a western styled one with navy covers and forest green sheets and pillow cases. His eyes are closed.

"What is it Hiroshi-kun?" He asks of me, his voice level, but I can tell that he's in pain. My best friend may be easy as all hell to read, a blazing neon sign with bells on. I can do subtle though, after all, subtle is my department of most if not all of my friendships. I clear my throat before speaking.

"K-san…I've been here for six days, and tomorrow makes a week, and I was wondering…" I make sure my voice is soft and clearly enunciated, I don't want to startle him or turn him against me. There are tricks you can learn to get people to talk, and this is just one of the thousands I have up my sleeve, actions that are so ingrained in me I don't always realize that I'm doing them.

"You can stay if you want." He mumbles, rolling over into the pillow. My heart jumps at that, and I don't understand why. It hurts a bit. It also hurts that he's leaving the decision of whether or not I stay completely up to me, when it is his home that I've invaded.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask, another tactic to get him to keep talking. Asking questions that require a personal answer. His response, however, catches me off guard.

"Surely you can make your own decisions Hiroshi-kun. You're supposed to be an adult, right?" His voice is hard, jarring. What's this about? I can feel my temper flare, but can also keep in in check. Years of keeping my cool around Shuichi when he's being an idiot do give one some talent in that area. 

Why do I keep comparing my relationship to my best friend to the one I have with my manager?

"I am an adult, K-san. And I can make my own decisions very well, thank you. I'm asking you because it's your apartment and therefore you should have the final say in what happens here."

"You're still just a boy, and it is entirely your decision as to where you go. I'm not forcing you to do anything, not anymore." K's head flops about on his pillow, splaying blond hair all over it as he shakes his head to match his words. I'm not entirely certain as to why the atmosphere in this room has changed so suddenly from the chill, breezy calm to a now think and cloying heat. I sigh, not wishing to provoke my boss any further. He does have an excellent shot, after all, and I have enough holes in my body from the needles that I take daily. I don't need another one.

"What does that mean, K? What have you forced me to do?"

"I forced you to come back to Bad Luck. I forced you to eat when you weren't well. I forced you to the washroom in the restaurant. I forced you to come here. I forced you to go to the theatre. I didn't… I didn't make you see a doctor when I knew you were sick. I didn't see how much you were hurting on the tour. I should have. I can't help but feel that this entire thing is either entirely my fault or that the fates are playing some sort of cruel joke. I don't believe in fate, or gravitation, or any other such gibberish. Which is why this has to be my fault."

"You're insane." K stops short and I see him tense, which isn't surprising considering I'm the one who said it and it stunned me.

"You're a child. You wouldn't understand." He says after a moment, his uncharacteristic outburst over and done with faster than it came up. I'm beginning to think that he really has forgotten how to live with someone after spending so many years alone. It's that thought that keeps me from exploding and doing something stupid like yelling, even though I can feel one of the veins in my head pulsing and my eyebrow starting to twitch. I'm close.

"I wouldn't understand what, Crawd?" I hiss, not even realizing I've used his first name without any honorific. He tenses further.

"You couldn't possibly." He mumbles into the pillow, but I catch it anyways, the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Couldn't understand what? Kami-sama! Talk to me you stupid American bastard!" I shout, then realize what I'm done and clasp my hands over my mouth and drop my head. I don't think I've ever been this embarrassed before in my life, including the time when Shuichi showed up at school in his night clothes in grade six, which consisted of nothing more than a tank top. I don't realized that I've begun to babble.

"I'm sorry. I…I shouldn't have…shouldn't have yelled like that. I… sorry K… I'll…I'm… I'll just…I'll go pack now." God, I'm such an idiot. Nakano Hiroshi, ichi ban baka, ne? (number one idiot) I shuffle towards the door, convinced that, if it wasn't for the fact that K was my manager, my brains would be currently decorating his bedroom wall in a mural of pink, red, white and grey bits in complete three dimensional gory glory.

Not that it would matter, really. I don't seem to be using my brain much at the moment.

His hand stops my exit and the next thing I know I'm pressed against said wall and I can't focus on his face seeing as it's so close to mine that trying makes me go cross eyed.

"You wouldn't understand this." He mumbles, and the next thing I know is his mouth on mine, tongue slipping inside as I gasp and roving through my mouth in a valiant attempt to lick my stomach. 

My first French kiss.

And it feels heavenly. I moan against his mouth and close my eyes, letting sensation take over completely. I hear and feel him growl in response, and my knees go weak. I collapse against him, and I know he's aroused, cause he's hard as hell against my thigh.

That contact, however, seems to shatter whatever made him do… that… in the first place. He pulls away with a muffled English curse and lets me fall to the floor completely dazed. I see him yank on his shoulder holster and place his gun even as he pulls on a jacket and stalks out of the room, his shout echoing in my ears.

"You can stay, just get the hell out of my room!"

The front door slams. It's all I can do to raise my hand to where he was not a minute ago. My first real kiss, from K. It might come as a surprise to most people, but I am pretty much a complete innocent when it comes to relationships. In high school, I played my guitar, then found Shuichi and played while he sang. I know I had fans, girls that loved my appearance or my ability, but I wasn't interested. Music was more of a fascination than any person could be. Shuichi, eventually, admitted his preferences. It didn't bother me, cause I didn't care at that time about relationships or dating.

I played music. We were a band. I did homework, followed what my parents expected of me and got good grades, played the role of a good son, not perfect, but good. The teachers liked me, the students liked me, Shuichi was my best friend. I had no drive to become, intimate, with anyone. I wasn't completely oblivious…just, apathetic about the whole deal. While most teenagers were falling victim to hormones, I was falling victim to notes and chords and bars and melodies and harmony.

Then Shuichi met Yuki Eiri, romance novelist extraordinaire. I found myself hearing about every nuance of his pursuit, and yes, it was a pursuit. My best friend had found the person he wanted to chase after and be with for the rest of his life, and told me all the juicy details. It was then I realized that I wanted something too, and met Ayaka.

We hit it off slow, I'll be the first to admit. My music and her prestige hunting didn't make for the best conversations and neither of us were so young that we fell into relationships blindly. She was pretty though. And it was nice to have someone who wasn't squeamish about holding string and pick calloused hands. I could talk to her about my life, she could talk to me about hers. It was nice.

Wait a minute…was? When did I start thinking about my girlfriend as a matter of the past?

Oh yes, when she never came to see me in the hospital, and didn't return my phone calls. Imagine that. She hasn't returned my call from earlier today yet, either. It's funny, really. So I laugh. Loudly.

I think I'm experiencing shock.

That was all earlier today…which brings us back to the obvious conclusion that I just received my first intimate action from my manager.

WHAT THE FUCK!?!

Yep. Shock.

I'm pretty sure I sat, brain dead and catatonic, either laughing or something else, on the floor of K's bedroom for a good hour before I managed to get on my feet and stumble to the room that had all my stuff in it. My hand was still resting lightly on my lips as I lay down still dressed and pulled the covers up.

I was confused as all hell. I needed to talk to someone, but before I even went for the phone it came to me that, as the best friend, I was the one who did the listening when other people needed to talk. I couldn't do the talking…it was too embarrassing and I… I didn't know how, really. I couldn't make sense of this, of why K would… of why I didn't mind…of any of it, and there was hardly someone I could talk about this over the phone to.

Imagine me phoning one of the people I know that could help me with this, are at least as smart as I am and knowledgeable about relationships. Touma would kill me, perhaps fire me which would be worse, for waking him up so late at night. Sakano would crumple, and I can't really imagine phoning him anyways. My parents, you have got to be kidding to even suggest. Sakuma-san…unless he's in serious mode, I don't even want to imagine what this would do to him. Noriko-san would look at me funny, we've never been close. Any priest I went to would…well, I'm pretty sure you can figure out that reaction by yourself… Yuki would murder me, and I'd kill myself before asking him anything remotely resembling something personal. Shuichi, let's face it, no help there. Suguru's younger than I am, and completely innocent.

Guess that means I have to figure this one out on my own.

Goodie.

I fell asleep not long after, still confused, completely out of it, befuddled, and…

And aroused as all hell.


	2. Confession is good for the soul

Wow! 5 reviews in two days! I feel special and all warm and fuzzy, but I'm pretty sure you guys are more concerned as to how K and Hiro are feeling about what just happened, ne? Read and find out… and where does the best friend fit in? That's here too…

'Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.' My mind had rambled through all the curse words I knew in two languages within ten seconds of letting my body take over my mind and then seemed to get stuck on this one all purpose classic. I'm supposed to have more control than that.

But his lips were everything I'd imagined, and more. And I had imagined often.

Try running down stairs with a lump of solid metal between your legs, and I'm not talking about one of my guns. I didn't notice, which will tell you as to just how messed up that one action made me. I needed to get out, get away, go, before I could do something that would haunt us both for the rest of our lives. Something like following through, which is what I had been about to do.

I still don't know what made me stop, but I'm glad it did, before I tore every stitch from that lean muscled frame and fucked my charge against the wall till he bled, making sure that he screamed my name and my name alone when he came…and he would scream. I think it was him, frozen and dripping wet in the dark theatre, that made everything crystal clear to me.

I wanted him. Badly. In any manner possible. This is not, let me tell you, something I, as his manager, should even think of considering, let alone actually think of doing. But it was there, and not going away anytime soon. Shit. The visions I had, this minor attraction turned full blown emotion, of the one person of five that had the honour of being people that I had sworn to protect. There was my wife, my son, and the members of Bad Luck, Suguru, Shuichi, and…

Hiro. Hiroshi-kun. Nakano-san. With strong supple hands, hair that smells of cinnamon and apples like the shampoo he uses, skin smooth and unblemished but for the hardened layer on his fingers and palms from hours of working with his instrument, and warm brown eyes almost black…eyes that could pull you in with the irrepressible force of a black hole…

I lied.

I do believe in gravitation.

I've fallen for Hiroshi Nakano. Hard. I'm not getting up soon, if ever.

And I'm in shit up to my eyebrows.

Shit.

--

I haven't seen K yet today, and it doesn't look like he came home last night. I don't have time to worry about it though, no matter how much I may want to, because Shuichi is expecting a pick up and we have a practise. It's time to go. I haven't ridden my bike since the tour, so I'm a little wobbly at first, my helmet an unfamiliar weight that settles as I become accustomed to the purr of an engine between my thighs.

Distraction. Mustn't think of K while driving.

Shuichi, for once, is only five minutes late, meaning that he's waiting for me as I pull up at the foot of the apartment he and his writer share.

"HIRO!!!" I've never figured out how he can be cheerful in the morning. It constantly amazes me that a person can get up before noon and, without tea, coffee, or a caffeine shot, be bouncing around enough that I have trouble handing him his helmet. 

I grunt some sort of reply, and he secures his helmet and climbs on. We need to go, and I gun the motor to action, pulling away from the curb and into the flow of traffic. He wraps his arms around my waist to steady himself as we race to practise.

Distraction. Mustn't think of K while attempting to tear a path to a rehearsal that we're going to be late to anyways.

Shuichi's still talking to me, but the wind whips his voice away from my ears and towards the cars and bikes behind us. I take the quickest route I know, but he's still pressed up behind me for a good half hour, no doubt wondering what the hell I'm thinking about as my pulse races and my breath comes in shallow half pants. By the time we pull up to NG Studios he's been oddly quiet for the past ten minutes.

Most people, on a bike, wouldn't think this odd, as talking lets you eat bugs. For Shuichi, however, this is near miraculous. I feel him slide off my bike as I park it, and his hand strays a bit too low.

Damnit. Mustn't think of K in front of best friend. His eyes sparkle.

"Is that for me?" He teases, a now longstanding joke between us. I don't reply with the usual, 'only if you want it to be' and he frowns, pouting and confused.

"Did you see Ayaka recently?" I should have seen that one coming. He knows that my dating scene has been on rough and rocky waters for some time, even offered to help with it. I appreciated the offer, but didn't take him up on it. Another lack of response leaves even more confusion, which turns to all out brain drain as I shake my head.

"Anou (um)… what happened Hiro?" We've been standing by the parking stalls for a good minute now, so I start to walk towards the place we should have been in twenty minutes ago… still early for Shu, bordering on late for me. He runs after me and does this little flying tackle leap thing that never fails to put everyone involved on the ground, but sustaining little damage to all parties. It winds me as I role over, but before I can sit up he's on my chest.

His hyperactivity is so not helping me at all, and that serious look in his eyes tells me he's not moving anytime soon, at least, not before he gets what he wants. Full blown pout now. Oh god…

Distraction. Mustn't think of K and Shuichi. Mustn't think of K and Shuichi…

I think I let out a little gurble of frustration, cause Shu moves down to let me get some air and respond to whatever he said.

I didn't hear it, and he's far, far too close for comfort. I whimper.

"Say it Hiro! What's wrong with you today?" He crosses his arms over his chest, which makes him shift his hips ever so slightly and grind into my abdomen. So not a good thing.

"Gah…Shu…it's nothing." I gasp. He glares. It has all the effect of a sun beam, but it's still a glare. Great. I've managed to piss off my best friend.

"Bull shit Hiro. Tell me." I feel my eyes widen. Shuichi never curses, and on the rare occasion he does, it's not directed towards me.

"I'll tell you later, okay?" I manage to wheeze, he's gotten heavier, and my breath isn't coming easy in the first place. Plus, people are starting to stare.

"No. Now. Now, now now now now now now!" With each repetition he bounces a bit, forcing any air from my lungs that may have remained. I think I'm going to die.

"SHU-CHAN!" I recognize that squeal and thank whatever deity that's watching over me for the godsend that is Ryuichi Sakuma. He and Shuichi are so much alike and feed off of each other's energy, and that never fails to distract and or cheer Shuichi up.

This is a very good thing, considering my current situation. 

Shuichi waves, grinning like a moron, then gently tugs my hair to get me to pay attention.

"Break. We'll talk." He then bounds over to the other vocalist completely super deformed and they head inside talking loud enough for me to hear from my place on the cement fifty meters away. Never has he sounded so scary, and I know I'm in trouble.

Groaning to get some oxygen to my crushed lungs I manage to get up, dust myself off, and head inside.

The practise room has Sakano, Shuichi, Suguru, and about eight techs running about and fixing things up.

K's not there, and once again, I feel crushed, but not in the same way.

Distraction. Mustn't think of K at practise. Mustn't think of K and last night. Mustn't think of K, nowhere to be found. Mustn't think of K. Mustn't….

Mustn't think at all.

I don't, and we play.

--

I can't believe I ended up here. It's gaudy and gauche and tacky and loud. I fumble for some cash anyway, load up with tokens, and head towards the booth style money suckers. The shooting range is too far away from this place, and I feel the distinct urge to kill something right now, so this will have to do.

Mummy Guts 2000 looks like a good place to start, so I plunk down in the seat, pick up the plastic gun inside that's far, far too light and has absolutely no recoil, but lets me splatter the screen with the insides of legions of the undead. I refuse to think about what I've done, what it means, where I'm supposed to be, and what I'm supposed to be doing. I loose myself in the poor graphics and crappy sound bites, wishing no for the last time that I hadn't just proved that people are right to term blonds as dumb.

Before I realize it, I've beaten the game and tickets are pouring out of the side while a light flashes, since the other was burned out, and a siren screams the machine's defeat. I chuckle, scaring more than a few of the children in the crane game section, and head over to the next booth, Martian Attacks, to blow the holy hell out of aliens this time, instead of mummies, and save the world again.

I am so great.

The wail of horns and more tickets spew forth, pocketed instinctively. I've spent three tokens, have seventeen to go.

Mothra looks good at this time of year, don't you think?

No, don't think. Thinking is bad. Thinking of anything leads to thinking of Hiro, probably confused as all hell and nursing a bruised if not bleeding lip on my bedroom floor…wait. He's probably at practise now, like I'm supposed to be. Damn it, I… I need to apologize. Soon. Before I destroy him with my stupidity.

The alarm blares and I realize I've let my winning streak go to shame, I pop another token, let my thoughts fade for the moment, and exalt as the giant moth bent on destroying Tokyo bleeds green blood.

Go me.

--

He hasn't shown up yet, and from the looks of it, he's not going to. Sakano's gibbering again, but after Touma came in and told him he could hand things he's no longer all out bawling. One less distraction from the CD we're attempting to create, and I have to say it's not going too badly. The guys suspect something's up, but, unlike Shuichi, my mood does not affect the tone of my music. Instruments are nice like that, and I am fortunate in that respect.

Not so fortunate in that I've managed to upset Shu, and therefore, caused an early break in recording. Since it is my job to console the singer when the boyfriend is mean thus causing the singer to cry and disrupt the band, I'm pushed into a booth with Shuichi.

Damn. Confession time. I rest on my knees before Shu, adopting the pose I've seen some of the Christian sects take in prayer.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It's been…twenty odd years since my last confession…"

"Hirobaka, what are you babbling about?" Shuichi raises an eyebrow, and I know that look.

"Anou…" I mumble.

"Talk." I know that look too.

"Um…well. I've been staying with…with K and…"

"You like him?" Purple sparkles and temporarily blinds me. How does he _do_ that?

"Yes. NO! Maybe." Shu's gaping, his jaw's on the floor and his eyes are rolling out the door.

"…I…I was JOKING! You…AH! Kami-sama! I…you…WAAAAI! I can't believe this! You like K! HIROOOOOOOOOO! Why didn't you tell me sooner! This is soooo…." He pauses, the implications sinking in. I stare until he sits down again.

"That so sucks." He finally comments.

"Tell me about it." I mutter, resting my head on my hand which is on my knee. 

"What are you going to do about it?" Shuichi pulls his feet up on the chair with him, looking at me with knowledgeable eyes. He has, after all, had a very rough time with his own relationship and knows about heartache very well. Maybe he can help me out after all.

"How…how did you get…Yuki…to, um, you know… like you back." Our roles have been reversed. I'm now the blushing innocent and Shuichi has become the gentle guiding hand.

"Hiro, Yuki and K are very different people. What worked for me won't work for you." He says in all seriousness. He's right.

"I know that. But…"

"What brought this on? Man, I should have seen it earlier. Why didn't you tell meeee?" I knew it wouldn't last. Shuichi is Shuichi and therefore always changing and bound to be unable to maintain seriousness for any length of time. I smile at his antics, and he looks at me with wide violet eyes.

"He kissed me." I say, and for a moment I think I've killed my best friend through massive heart failure. Only a moment though…he's talking again.

"He KISSED you?!?!?! ACK! Slow down here!" I laugh, Shu's telling me to slow down…

"Yes. Last night."

"Details. Now." I feel like a school girl, Shu's dressed as one previously, and no one's here to see, so I don't feel too idiotic as I give him what he asks and go through our entire day, the evening twice, before he's satisfied.

I really, really love Shu at times like these. He's devious, conniving, and utterly unbound by any scruples. 

Then, the plotting begins.

Amidst laughter and blushing and some bouts of tearful eyes our little talk brings us both up to date on each other's lives and gives me an action plan for the next time I come across our manager. Then my stomach growls, and I'm dragged out of the Studio towards an 7/11 for lunch.

By the time we get back everything's set up and Suguru's waiting. Sakano's disappeared to his office, and the techs give us a thumbs up. I pick up my baby and check her tuning.

"What took you!?" Suguru asks, quirking his head to the side.

"Let's just say that Hiro's got some nerve calling _me_ a pervert." Shuichi comments, then, before Suguru can comment or I can untangle myself and strangle him, the techs signal us and we're recording.

--

I dropped in to the Studio at about five that day and was instantly rushed to Touma's office where I got the chewing out of my life. That is one man I do not want to piss off ever again, but I know I will so I just give him this coy little smirk, flip him the bird, and go to find out how the recording went.

Wow. If this is the result of my actions last night, I'll have to kiss each and every member of the band and tech crew, and the CD will be out in a week instead of the two months we've planned. 

Damn. I'd managed to forget about that for a good seventeen minutes. 

Still, they managed two songs in their entirety and a third that's three quarters finished. It has to be the best session they've had in months. I admit it, I'm proud of them. Millions of CD's within three years of forming is incredible. I know I'm smiling as I head out and make my way home. If Hiro's in a good mood, maybe we can talk about…my little lapse in good judgement, and he won't kill me. And he could, because I'd let him. I know I've overstepped my bounds, and I know that I've gotta face the results.

My grin is in place, but for once, I can't really find a reason behind it.

I've messed up bad.

I only hope he can forgive me.

GOMEN NASAI! I'm afraid it'll be a couple days before I update again (three finals in the next five days, starting day after tomorrow…) BUT I do have a plot in mind…and Changing Luck is gonna stay R rated for mature themes….steaminess is coming, I promise, just not yet…


	3. Evenings at home

Wahahahahahaha….I feel like K right now, I want to scream that I am a genius from every roof top…I so completely aced my finals….and now that I have one left, and need some stress relief, I wrote more of the fic! Yay! Go me! Alrighty basic summary - K comes home, things happen, then more things happen… I can see you all sweat dropping, so I'll shut up, I just needed to get that out of my system.

I made supper by myself, gave myself my shot and tested my blood sugar, then cracked the seal of the best bottle of white wine that I could afford. Two years ago, it would have been the cheapest thing the store had, but now that we're famous, not only can I afford something better, but I even had help at the store. I've been sitting here since, waiting for K to come back. I know it sounds pathetic, but I have it on good authority he's on his way. Why this makes the bottom of my stomach drop out I refuse to admit. I need to straighten the napkins.

Fine. I'll admit it, just to myself though. I think, no… I know that I'm falling for him. I mean, why him? Of all the people I could have found myself attracted to, why K? It can't be his unusual and alluring appearance. I work in a business where being attractive is nearly as important as any talent one may possess. It's not his money, cause I have plenty of my own. There is no possible way that I'd consider him for his weapons and guns…take that in whatever way you will, or his bizarre speech patters. 

So what is it? Pheremones that are causing an overly active hormonal response? I don't think so… after all, the man smells so much like the produce section that you couldn't find anything else underneath it, and… it's not all sexual. In fact, very little of it is a sexual attraction. Almost none. Fine. That kiss is really the first time that I'd ever seriously considered doing the nasty with a guy. Seriously serious, that is. And I didn't think about him as just a guy…it was…something else. And why now? After I've know the guy for almost four years? Stupid. Stupid Hirobaka… Why? Damnit. I've thought this through almost every two minutes since it happened and I still can't come to an acceptable conclusion. It is not acceptable that I have fallen in love with that crazy ass bastard of a gun-totting, English-speaking, blond-maniac of a fruit scented American. That little talk with Shuichi isn't helping me right now either. 

Shit. 

Where is he? I stir the vegetables on my plate and they're still hot, so I can't have been sitting here nearly as long as I feel like I have.My butt's numb. Maybe…that's a good thing…if our plan goes off right… I'm fidgeting, and with good cause. I'm so nervous I want to throw up, and yet, and yet I'm also so excited that I can't help but express it in a physical way. I've seriously never _felt_ this much ever before. I'm hyper aware of everything, from the tiles that stick to my sweating feet ever so slightly to the scent of dinner and the feel of my clothes against my skin tugging or shifting as I move in my seat. The carrots are bright orange and the beans a rich green, the grill lines of the niji masu (rainbow trout) are stark against the flesh, and wine a clear liquid in crystal glasses and the rice a mound of fluffy white made in the western style. The forks that took me almost half an hour to find are polished and blindingly silver against crisp cream napkins that match the porcelain and provide a contrast to the forest green place setting and mahogany table top covered for the most part by a navy runner bordered in the same cream that rests where we began. And where is Crawd? He should be home by now, even if he went to the studio.

Music. That's what's missing. 

I rush to the living room and begin to search through the extensive mass of CD's and cassettes and minidisks that is the compilation of both our collections. Mood. I need to set the mood. I rifle through play list after play list but nothing catches my eye. My mind races. Am I being too forward? Too elegant? Too fast? Too much? I'm so preoccupied in my worries that I don't hear the front door open and close, I don't hear as shoes are slipped off of weary feet and placed on the shelf. I don't realize that those feet have paused in the kitchen, then moved on and come to a halt directly behind me. At least, not until a hand is placed on my shoulder.

What is it with K and making me scream? Honestly, twice in as many days after years of being completely out of practise is hard on the vocal cords, and the neighbour's ears. My heart has stopped by the time I spin around to stare up at him and I find myself drawn into slightly moist pit's the colour of the ocean at dawn. Silence reigns as he extends a hand to help me up, then chooses a CD mixed just for him. Audi Victoria is first, and it is to that melody that he leads me back to the kitchen and pulls out my chair. I sit, and he takes his place across from me. We give thanks instantly, the action ingrained since birth, and eat as the music pours in from the other room. 

"K, I…" I begin, he raises a hand.

"Later." It is a request, and a plea. I nod, and go back to the food before me. I can no longer taste it, and regret that, but all my attention has gone to the American sitting across from me. He is where my attention is. The way he is sitting, the way he cuts his food, the pattern he is currently breathing in. He raises the fork naturally, easily, and I watch as grilled trout makes it's way inside. I whimper as his eyebrow rises at the first sip of wine and he licks his lips to catch every drop.

I'm so engrossed in staring at him that I don't realize I haven't eaten anything since the first bite until he mentions it. Instantly I'm eating again, but my eyes don't leave him, looking for something, anything…

Any indication at all that last night wasn't just a fantasy and that I'm not going completely insane.

I don't get it, and he begins to clear the dishes. My heart plummets from my chest to splash in my already roiling stomach and I feel ill. The CD clicks off, but I really don't notice over the gaping hole in my chest that hurts so much I can't breath. I don't ask why, I don't want to know that I know, it just hurts. K doesn't come back to the kitchen, and now, whatever's left on my plate is cold and congealed. It didn't work… it didn't work at all. I can't decide if this is a good thing or if I should just walk to the rifle on the wall and put it too good use.

I'm numb again as I clean up the remains of a fancy dinner. The dishes are done somehow, I don't remember doing them, but I have soap suds on my shirt and a dishrag in hand, so I must have. I fold the table settings and clothe carefully so I don't have to wash them and put the silverware away where I found it. The kitchen is clean, but I don't want to head out or to my room, so I click on the CD again to find out what song K stopped it on. It's in Japanese, and the words seem to mock me, but the music itself suits my mood completely. I flop on the couch and let go. I can't do anything else. I failed, and it hurts like nothing else.

Warm hands wipe away the tears I didn't realize I let out.

"Don't…please don't cry…" The soft words are in English, but I understand the tone if not the meaning.

"Daijoubu. (it's all right/fine)" I sigh, and turn away, I can't look at him right now…

"Iya. I…I've hurt you. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like…" My misery turns to anger so quickly my head spins even as I hear my voice rise in volume.

"Sorry. SORRY? Taken advantage of me?!?! Fuck! Fuck it K! What if I wanted you to kiss me?! HUH? What if I liked it? What if I like…" My voice fails me.

"You can't. I can't. I'm sorry, Hiroshi…" K looks pained and won't raise his head.

"Look at me! Look at me K… I…I l…lo…li…I…damn it." I can't say it, can't admit it, and I feel tears threatening again. I won't let them spill over though, they can threaten all they want.

"Hiro." K calls me softly.

"What." I snap. I'm not happy with anyone or anything right now, including myself.

"Thank you for supper. It was delicious." And then he's there. The thirteen centimetre* difference in our heights lets him rest his head on mine as his arms wrap around my waist and I feel myself falling.

K's chest is solid against my back, keeping me from tumbling head over heals.

I've realized that it doesn't matter whether he catches me or not.

I am head over heals, I've fallen. I don't mind a bit. I close my eyes and feel. I feel his muscles shifting lightly to keep us upright, I feel the fabric of his shirt soft

against my ear, his chin resting on my head, his hands wrapped around my arms, and his Winchester poking me in the back.

Reality check. Phase two of the master plan, I can do this... really…maybe.

"I'm tired…" I hear myself say and manage to refrain from grinning or crying.

"Bed time!" K's put on the dumb blond mask again, smile firmly in place. I pull away and move towards my room, but don't make it three steps before I'm scooped up…no mean feet let me tell you, I'm heavier than I look…and carried.

The only flaw is that I'm carried to his bed, not mine where I've set everything up and it's waiting for us both...I had hoped, and feared, as maybe… just maybe it could explain some things. Tell me where this entire shit fest is going. I don't get the opportunity to find out. K kicks his door closed and deposits me on his western style one, then sits down beside where he's lain me.

"I saw your little…set up." He admits, and reaches for the weapon concealed under the same jacket he went out in yesterday that seems a lifetime ago. I tense, and he continues. "I'm…flattered and…grateful…and, don't get me wrong Hiroshi…I…I do have feelings for you, but it won't work. I'm your manager, and it's inappropriate for us to form any bond beyond that..."

"Bull shit…" His finger on my lips quiets me, the gun is placed under his pillow.

"…no matter how much either of us wants to. I've made you dependant on me, and it's turned into a mutual attraction…at least, I believe it to be mutual. No one's ever cooked supper for me, Hiro. It was, highly unexpected…but I'm grateful. More than you can know, but it has to stop here."

"If it has to stop then why'd you bring me into your room? Huh?" I've got him there, he can't escape that fact, no matter how hard he tries.

"I know of your…plans? Wishes? For this evening, and you have no idea how much I want to take you up on the offer."

"I think I do."

"Hear me out. I'm too old, I don't want either of us to lose our jobs and…"

"If work is the only thing in the way then you can have my resignation signed and delivered in under thirty seconds." I want this…I want him. No matter what the cost.

"I can't let you do that Hiro. Let me finish. I don't want either of us to lose our jobs and I brought you here because your room's a mess, we're both exhausted, and you seem to relax when you're around people, specifically people who play with your hair."

"I…"

"Now, you are going to lie down while I put on something a little more comfortable and grab a hair brush, then I'm going to comb your hair to calm you down, and we are going to go to sleep, got it?" More random English, but this too, is one of his usual slips and I understand perfectly well.

Doesn't mean I have to like it though, apparently the perfect plan just got flushed. 

"Wakaru…( I understand)" I mutter and try not to look too disappointed, failing miserably at that too as K changes with lightning speed into a white t-shirt and rather loose shorts. I flop onto my stomach and he grabs one of the many brushes we have lying all over the house, starting at the bottom and working through the knots and snarls that form during the day in my bit longer than shoulder length hair.

By the time he gets to the top, the strain's caught me, and I've fallen asleep.

--

Morning comes and I'm warm and comfortable, but I need to take my shot or I'll get sick again, then eat breakfast or I'll get sick, then go do something, or my blood sugar will make me sick.

It's days like these that I hate my body.

Sometime during the night we'd spooned against each other, K curled around me and me on my right side. I want nothing more than to stay like that until I start to decompose. Oh, yuck… I manage to wriggle out without waking him, and it's only after I get out to tuck the covers back in that I notice his shirt's gone.

Drool.

Some guys have these muscles that bulge and ripple and look so absolutely painful it's disgusting, others, like K, look really, really, _really_ good with defined but not ripped musculature. I've found that the ones that look like marble statues have the same IQ as marble statues, and, sorry, I could never really appreciate that.

I can appreciate this. Oh, I can. Easily. Maybe there's more attraction than I think, or maybe since I spent the night in his bed his scent is getting to me despite the kiwi body lotion. He's so very beautiful like this… I catch myself before I profane this holy sight with my filthy, impure touch and rush from the room blushing harder than I've ever blushed before. Insulin…eat…activities…three things in that order. Hopefully, K will still be asleep when I get back and I can continue to slobber over his pectorals and abdominals…

--

I felt him shift and went limp, making my breath slow and deep and rhythmic so when his cinnamon and apple hair moved out from under my nose he, for all intents and purposes, would believe that I was still asleep. It worked. I watched as he wiggled out of my embrace through lashes barely open, watched his movements as he came to full alert… it didn't happen as quickly as it usually did, not that he was a morning person in the first place, but it seemed as though this morning Hiro was a bit out of it.

I saw the look he gave me, the step he took towards the bed, the pause, and the bolt.

I loved him. It was wrong, impossible, reality. I couldn't escape, and didn't want to. The way his eyes shimmered for a fleeting moment solidified my thoughts and made action that much easier, meaning that I had a phone call to make, two, actually. 

The front door clicked closed half an hour later and I reached to the hidden compartment in my wall, dialling an eighteen digit number that only myself and two others knew existed. It was picked up on the third ring.

"What's wrong Crawd?"

"Not wrong. Right."

"Eh? Hold on, let me get Judy on the other phone."

"Crawd?"

"Do you still have the papers for joint custody?"

"Yes. Do you need them? Want to talk to Michael? It's been almost a year."

"No.. not now. I…Judy, darling. I've found someone here."

"Really?! Oh, Crawd it's about time! A man your age should settle down with a nice girl…"

"And you're not a nice girl?"

"I'm not nice, and I'm not a girl, Ark. Get off the phone, this is personal."

"Yes ma'am!" No click.

"Now, Ark."

"Fine, but you're telling me everything the moment you hang up."

"Alright. Scat you sick bastard."

"Gone." The couple waited until the other man actually hung up before continuing.

"So tell me all about her Crawd, I want to know what kind of woman has pulled you from my…"

"It's a young man, Judy." Silence, then a squeal.

"Crawd! Did Ryu-chan finally get his wish?"

"WHAT?" In a Tokyo apartment, one blond man noted in many countries as being somewhat eccentric, but the best at what he did, screamed like a woman. The laughter of a real woman on the other side of the planet brought him back to reality.

"Crawd, sweety, jokes. You're getting gullible in your age."

"I am not getting gullible or old."

"Sure thing."

"I'm not!"

"Seriously, who is it? That pink haired boy?"

"Shuichi?"

"Yeah."

"GOD no. Right band though."

"Oh! The guitarist!"

"Yeah."

"And you want to make him a co-custodian of Michael, don't you?"

"You've read my mind, again."

"I'll have the paper work sent ASAP, he'll be ecstatic to learn he has another uncle."

"Judy, I love you."

"I know, don't let it get out."

"I won't."

"Love you to, later babe."

"Later."

Pleased with the success of the first call, K took a breath and dialled the next number, hoping against hope that this wouldn't cause too much up-roar but knowing it was a futile dream.

Four rings and the nasal voice of the head secretary came across loud and clear.

"NG Studios, Seguchi-san's office, how can we help you?"

"Touma on the line please."

"Right away sir, if I can just…"

"It's K. There's been a development."

"One moment please." The secretary chirped. K added her to the list of people to kill when he didn't have anything better to do. Waste of bullets, you see.

"Seguchi here."

"Touma. It's K."

"Something happen to Shuichi?"

"No."

"Surugu?"

"No."

"Hiroshi?"

"No."

"Then what is it? If this is another prank K, you've lost your touch completely."

"It's not a prank Touma. I'm resigning."

"…what?"

"I quit. Personal reasons."

"Something happen to Judy or Michael? If that's the case I can give you as much leave as you want, you just have to a…"

"I can no longer…"

"K! What's come up. Tell me or I won't sign the release form." Bastard. I love him, but he's a bastard.

"It's a personal matter." I growl.

"I don't care. I'll find out anyw…"

"You will. So hear it from me. I love Hiroshi. As his manager I can not…"

"Is that it? Do you honestly think I care who's fucking who in this building?"

"Touma! A little respect please."

"So sorry then. I don't care, which means NG doesn't care."

"You won't be using our relationship the same way Uesugi and Shuichi's was used."

"No, one scandal per band, that's all I'm aiming for. Bad Luck has had several, they're ahead of schedule." I grin as a bit of the young man I knew as part of Nittle Grasper is allowed to show some humour.

"Good." 

"You're on my employee list K, and it's staying that way. Now get out of my hair." Touma mutters good naturedly.

"Yes sir Mr. Tight Ass sir!" I quip, and hear him sigh.

"I can understand English as well as you speak it Crawd. Good day." The call disconnected leaving me completely satisfied. Now, the only worry I had was that what I had seen in Hiroshi's eyes truly was a reflection of what I know simply shone from my own.

That and get to the store and back before Hiro. I have to move fast.

* I checked….


	4. The question

Argh…I'm a little frustrated with this chapter, but don't want to do any more revisions as I had my right wrist strained in a sparring session and thus it's all immobilized and shit…frustrating. Luckily, I'm left handed, so that means my hunt and peck typing is a bit faster than my mom's typing period so hopefully this won't stink too much…I've made it up to thirty words a minute…needless to say the next ch's gonna be a while.

Miso and rice breakfast, get dressed, teeth brushed and I'm out the door. The sun is an offence at this time of day, as are the people who are smiling or out for a morning jog. Any activity that requires actual effort before noon is a travesty against sanity and the gods, which is so very hypocritical of me it's laughable. 

I am so not a morning person, but I have to get up at the same time everyday which is a serious pain in the ass, literally if that's the injection sight, figuratively if we've had a concert the night before and I only went to sleep two or three hours before I have to get up. Don't talk to me then if you like your head or genitals, I'm never in a good mood. It's hypocritical of me to say that these people that get up and enjoy the mornings are travesties because I'm becoming one of them. I don't like running, so I'm not a jogger or even a speed walker, that's not something that I could ever make myself enjoy, but I do go for walks, sometimes for a swim.

Today, I head in a direction that I haven't taken yet, it has, after all, only been just barely a week since I've moved in, not nearly enough time for someone with a job, let alone one that takes almost all your dedication, to explore their surroundings. The apartment is actually in Tokyo, so K can, if need be, get to the Studio within an hour no matter what time of day without having to wait for a train or bus or have to keep his car in top shape. He does, but if it's unavailable, he can make the time running. We're in the Shimbashi area, close to the Shimbashi stop for Japan Railways and the Shiodome monorail. I'm heading in the opposite direction from such major population gatherings, seeing as I really don't feel like signing autographs or having my picture taken in the morning.

Not a morning person. Being civil is an accomplishment. I only hope that my hat which has my hair piled under it, the sunglasses, and the non-descript clothing I'm wearing keep me from being recognized by anyone. I catch the Tofi Mita Line subway at Onarimon and head to the Uchisaiwaicho drop by Hibaya Park. There's a public hall close by and the music hall's a short jog from there.

It's full of people, some tourist group from Canada and the States by the matching shirts. Crap. I grumble a bit as I go an buy another ticket to go back the way I've come, lots of people, even foreigners, means a good chance that I'll be spotted. Damn it. I just want to get my exercise in, not be hounded by fans and reporters. Looks like it'll work, the subway pulls into the stop and people flood off as I start to push my way on. Morning rush hour.

"Nakano-san!! Please, a word for the viewers?"

Crap. Spoke too soon. I elbow someone a little harder than was probably needed and step on the platform before the beep signalling the departure of the cars starts up. Looking out I see a woman and her crew including camera and microphones jostling to get close. Before they can make it onto the platform the doors slide closed and the floor lurches under my feet. I wave and smile as the subway pulls out, hearing her disappointed wail through the glass. 

That just made my day.

I get off at my stop with a thousand others switching sides of the little white line and begin to walk towards home, my adventure over. Yawning to disperse a bit of the claustrophobia caused by the subway I remove my cap and stretch, almost missing the small sign on the gate of the large yard I've just passed. 

_Shinju Teien, for all your adult needs_. No wonder the sign's small and higher up than most kids could read. Shuichi's right, I'm a bigger pervert than he is. I walk inside, and have to gape. I don't want to even know what half of these things are for…or what they are. The big neon green jell thing right at the door is seriously freaking me out. It's not like I haven't been inside of this type of store before, but I have a feeling this caters to a more, alternative, crowd. It's dark and damp and freaky and I'm starting to get uncomfortable when a…person…speaks up.

"Can I help you?" I can't tell if they're a guy or a girl or something else entirely. Their face is pierced in more places than I want to count and the gear they're wearing is obviously from this place and yes, it is gear, not clothes. I know I'm gaping. I think that's real leather. They raise an eyebrow and about a kilogram of silver goes with it.

"Anything in particular you were looking for….Nakano-san?" Great now they're smirking, but at least at this angle I can tell that this employee is a guy.

"N…nothing in particular." I manage, then stir my failing courage a bit. "Just maybe some lube…do you have flavoured?" The guy laughs.

"And then some. For that singer? I hear it's his birthday soon, if you know what I mean. He's got a nice ass."

"Yeah, he does." I can't believe I just said that. I can't believe that I'd forgotten Shu's birthday and needed to be reminded by some _scary_ guy in a sex shop. Evil strikes my brain again and I find myself grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

"Not that I'm dissin' yours or nothing. You're pretty fine yourself." 

"Thanks, not to many people notice."

"You free tonight?" God, I tried hard not to laugh, I really tried, and it did not work at all. The guy looks offended.

"Sorry." I gasp. "But I have someone."

"That Aya…ka?…chick? Or Ayako?" He looks disgusted.

"No…someone else. I do, however, need a hand with something a little more…interesting." He stops, we haven't reached the lube yet.

"Oh? Such as…?"

"I need a present for a size 7 woman, and he's picky." The guy's eyes light up, and I hope I have enough cash on me for whatever he's planning.

"I'll be right back." He disappears and comes back thirty seconds later with this semi-transparent pink slip and thong combo and a box of something that rattles.

"This will fit him perfectly, and I'm sure that writer will appreciate these." He shakes the box. "Strawberry flavoured edible rings…and not for the finger…dissolve in the mouth, not in the hands." I've found a guy more perverted than me, and I'm red as my hair as he smirks and places the stuff on the counter by the till.

"How much?" I ask. He smiles this smile that's more lecherous and disturbing than I though possible for someone under eighty. I sweat drop.

"Two signatures, a small favour, that's it…and however much the lube you want is. Won't come to more than 1,000 yen."

"What do you want signed?" I hope I'm not going to regret this. The smirk gets bigger and he whips out a pen.

"First, this CD." He pulls out our first single and it has my signature within thirty seconds. "And this…" He takes down the green jell thing I first noticed upon entering the store. I have no idea where to sign it, or even what it is…but I sign it anyways.

"The favour?"

"Two choices…a picture in an outfit of my choosing, or a recording of a phrase of my choosing."

"Can I see the outfit and hear the phrase first?"

"Nope! Live on the wild side man!" He bounces. I am seriously freaked out.

"Voice." I don't sing that often, maybe people won't recognize me.

"Alright! Let's see…" His eyes widen, and instantly he calms down a bit. I turn, but see nothing. He pulls out a bag and places the stuff inside…it's solid, so no one can see inside. A microphone is produced.

"What do you want me to say?"

"This is Nakano Hiroshi, and I like older men." I almost smirk as I say it back, but I'm too embarrassed. He places something in the bag as I move to pick it up and winks.

"On the house." I nod and bolt, feeling so dirty I actually want a shower and am glad to see the morning sun. I have something to think about.

Sex is not love, and I love K…is sex a part of that? The answer comes back instantly, yes, but there is a but.

Am I ready for this?

My mind is strangely silent.

--

I can't believe he's here. How did he find this place? Hiroshi is far, far too innocent to come to the Pearl Garden, and Shinyu smirks at my reaction.

"You know him?" He asks, his piercings jingling as his head tilts.

"He's why I'm here." Shinyu's eyebrows rise, and more metal shifts. 

"He's a part of that band, right? Nakano Hiroshi?"

"Aa. What are you thinking of Shin?"

"Connections K. I can give him that thing you ordered for Yuki-san a year ago that you forgot about because of some 'interest' but came in two days ago…"

"Do it. Don't let him know I'm here, and don't do anything to stupid."

"You know me."

"That's why I'm reminding you not to do anything too stupid."

"Yes boss…" I watched the interaction between my…roommate…and one of the better agents I have in this sector. Shin was certainly playing the role of perverted freak well… I sighed, and Shin looked at me. I glared back and the younger man slid a bottle of my favourite lube into Hiro's bag as an apology before getting him to say something into the speaker which Shin recorded.

I stayed put as Hiro left and Shin bounced up the stairs, his metal striking dissonant chords as bits bumped into each other.

"30,000 yen and I won't put this all over the airwaves, 35,000 and I'll give it to you." Apparently Shin would always be Shin, and I sighed as I pulled out my wallet. I should write him up, but it's not worth the effort or the paperwork. 

--

It's been four months since I bought the…stuff…at that freaky store. I haven't been back since. Before you ask, yes I did give the edible slip and thong to Shuichi, as well as the box of dissolving cock rings, and he got this god awful nose bleed when I did. Luckily, it was after the big birthday party, and he passed out completely smashed not five minutes after.

I don't want to know if he actually used them or not. The lube that metal face said was on the house is still in a box hidden away with some other things of mine that aren't used very often in the spare room. I moved permanently into our room about a month after first coming to live with him. Three days after Shu's birthday Ayaka phoned me for the first time since the tour that was nearly a year ago…ten months actually. She's found a politician's son and I've been invited to the wedding. I couldn't care less, cause I'm blissfully happy right now.

Bad Luck is still a chart topper. Shuichi and Eiri have progressed to the point that public displays of affection are commonplace, for both of them. Suguru's moony over some girl called Kumiko he met after a concert, and that's affected his music positively. We are in a high that won't fade for months. K's stayed on as manager, Sakano's 'Learning to Cope with Stress' novel edited by Yuki Eiri is selling like hot cakes, and Touma's stick up the ass fell out part way. Life is good.

Not to mention the fact that I am currently in one of the best make out sessions that I have ever had the pleasure to engage in. And trust me, that's a lot of pleasure. Crawd's very good with his hands.

I'm also a bit frustrated. I want more, I'm ready to move on from heavy petting and groping to something a little more advanced. We haven't gotten any further than having both our shirts off. 

Did I mention I liked Crawd's chest? So much that when I asked him for a picture of it to carry around, he agreed? 

Drool.

We're both fully clothed and in our apartment, and I like the way he's pushing me into the sofa. His weight on top of me is both a stimulant and a source of contentment. I feel warm and safe and loved when ever he does this, especially when he has his hands fisted in my hair as we kiss. It's heaven, it's in one of our songs, and he knows that I requested Shuichi write it for us.

It's been number one for the entire week that it's been out, and playing on the radio right now. Definitely ready for more. Instead of resting my hand on his hip for balance as I usually do, I put it on his back and make us grind together. He pulls away to look at me, and I ask the question I've spent months debating over.

"Will you make love to me?"


	5. The answer

You guys are going to gut me, peel off all my skin, then burn me and stick the charred remains on a pole for the vultures to pick at. Hiro's delivered the big line…and K thinks about it…

I never thought I'd be this happy. It's almost surreal. After the first few fights when he first moved in, then the really bad ones once we started sharing a bed, things evened out and bliss ensued. I had trouble with the thought that I was betraying another commitment I'd made, but when the custody papers for Michael came so did the ones for a divorce. Judy, I still love you. I always will. Thank you for letting me go. Those words came at the bottom of my return letter that hit the bottom of the mail box this morning. After the concert last night, Hiro was tired, so I'd let him sleep a bit longer while I made breakfast and drew up his needle. He was eating, adorably mussed from sleep, when I went to drop off the mail. 

By the time I got back, the dishes had been done and I saw him reading and occasionally snickering at the words before him on the living room couch. His hair was up in a bun with some strands spilling down to touch his collar bone barely exposed by the loose dress shirt half done up on his lanky frame. Delicious. I wanted a taste. We'd been touching and kissing for a good long time, and I'd finally convinced my libido to accept that without the follow through. Our touches never got to full on cupping or fondling, but everywhere else was a go. He found the spot on the inside of my elbow that made me gasp within three sessions, and I already had figured out his hair, so we stimulated each other there as often as possible.

As I padded closer I saw what he was reading and snickered as well. Sakano really must know what he's talking about, if he can freak on so many occasions, continually, and not go insane. Must be his method of coping. I tear my eyes from the cover and they meet warm brown ones that were a shade lighter than his hair right now. It'd been three weeks since he dyed it back to it's natural colour, and from the polls his rating's gone up and have the number of fan clubs. I agree. Before, he was hot. Now, he's to die for.

"Hi there gorgeous." I greet him. He smiles.

"Hi yourself." He looks too good, and I lean over the couch to press my lips against his in a chaste good morning kiss. I feel him smile against me and the book falls to the floor with a dull thud, his hands encircling my neck and pulling me on top of him. I comply, he likes the contact, and I have to say I don't mind that at all. I let one hand drift to pet his hair and he moans, letting me inside his mouth. Minty toothpaste fresh. His hand strays to my elbow, he's being unusually aggressive and making the pace of our kiss speed up. His breath becomes mine in a little trick we learned that let us breath and still stay attached…the techs at the studio timed one at twenty-three minutes. I don't remember it all that well, but from what I do recall, it was worth every second.

My other hand cups his cheek and he closes his eyes to enjoy the sensation I'm giving him, the little sounds he makes tell me he's having a good time, and the fact that my jeans seem as tight as his slacks tell me that it's a very good time indeed. We kiss. Hot breath and wet intermingling as I slide completely on top of him, his smile not interrupting one move of tongue or lips or teeth. I admit, I'm enjoying myself immensely as well.

His hand strays down towards my hip where he usually braces it to keep from moving too much, but it doesn't stop there. Instead, it comes to press against the small of my back, pulling me tighter against and on top of him and grinding our erections together. And the hand stays there, even as he pulls his lip gently from between my teeth. I look at him, confused, and he smiles.

"Will you make love to me?" He asks, his eyes pleading. I groan, refusal an impossibility to my already clouded mind. The things endorphins will do to a guy, honestly…that, and the fact that Hiro, at the moment, is living, breathing, pure sex. A walking god that I will fall to my knees before and worship. Beautiful to me as no other can compare. My Hiro…mine.

That thought makes me growl and lower my head from his to nip lightly at his throat as my hands fall from his head to undo the three buttons holding his shirt closed against his chest. He has told me, on many occasions, of the wondrous fascination that my abdominal and chest areas hold over him, and carries a picture of it in his wallet. Why, I don't know. I work with him, live with him, go to the same places he does in spare time, am as physically close as possible at all times without going overboard and finding some way to meld myself to his lanky frame. He can see my chest anytime he wants, all he has to do is ask.

He's seen me cross dress before, he's seen me naked. Yet he has problems with asking me to get naked. Hasn't he realized I'll do anything for him? Or that I have no body issues what so ever? I'd walk around without clothes if it would make him happy, the only thing holding me back are the legal aspects of doing so that I know so well.

I could pull connections and not have to deal with that, but it's too much hassel. Besides, my body is for him and him alone. You can look, only he can touch.

And he's touching ever so very well right now.

His skin is salty sweet under my tongue, firm against my lips. His pulse rises from aroused to excited against the beating of my own heart as my hair falls undone by his hand to surround us with the scent of mangos. He's going to need to wear one of the turtleneck sweaters he owns tomorrow as I lave an area sucked too harshly in an attempt to draw him closer and make us one.

Mangos and oneness.

We need to move.

He chokes back a disappointed cry as I pull away, placing a small gasp in it's place as I rock my hips against his in the same motion. His hands reach for me but I am no longer there.

"Crawd…?" His voice questions me. Not as employee to manager, but man to man on equal footing. He may have his equilibrium, but mine's long gone as I stumble under the influence of gravity, managing to somehow lean over an lift him to my arms.

"Hiro…" I whisper, my voice a husky purr. He smiles again and my knees are weakened as his arms curve to hold me close and help keep me on my feet. It's years until the door swings shut behind me, decades until I place him on the firm springs of the mattress, centuries until I am once again pressed against him lengthwise, tasting his skin, hearing his moans, feeling him move, smelling that apple cinnamon scent that chases me everywhere and has become an obsession greater than the one that dragged me from halfway across the world to this place where he was.

This is where I'm supposed to be.

And we need to cut there to keep the rating…to be continued in a collection of side stories under the title of Getting Lucky proceeding from this point in an orderly fashion, then the actual part with a PLOT will be continued in Good Luck, which will most likely only have two or three chapters...Getting Lucky will be a work in progress, seeing as even I need time to come up with lemons, and may be updated after Good Luck is finished.

Songs mentioned, in order by title then artist, through out the duration of Changing Luck.

Loser - 3 doors down

Audi Victoria - Die Prinzen

Love (destiny) - Ayumi Hamasaki


End file.
